


Please, Like This is the Worst I've Done

by CuriousThimble



Series: Fictober 2018 Microfics [19]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antivan Crows, Assassination Attempt(s), Denerim, F/M, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Landsmeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 13:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16347953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousThimble/pseuds/CuriousThimble
Summary: Attacked by Antivan Crows in Denerim, Zevran is faced with the very real prospect of losing the Warden he's come to care for.





	Please, Like This is the Worst I've Done

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 19  
> Some days are easier to write than others, so I'm very glad to have just made it this far! I can't believe there's less than two weeks left, this has been so much fun!

They were just walking through the city, holding hands and enjoying a quiet moment together.

 

No one expected the ambush.

 

Tabris’s dagger is so sharp that when it cuts through Taliesin’s throat it nearly severs his head, leaving it to fall back and flop madly as blood spurts. Zevran dispatches the last of the assassins at the base of the stairs before turning to see her standing over his dead friend, clutching her side. Blood pours out of it freely, staining her clothing as she takes ragged breaths.

 

“ _ Amora, _ ” he breathes, running to catch her as she falls. He shakes her gently, cradling her in his arms and calling her name. “Tabris-  _ Kallian _ ,” he chokes, her name ringing in fear. “Open your eyes.”

 

Her eyelashes shiver before opening reluctantly, revealing blue-green eyes bright with pain. “You called?” she whispers, wincing.

 

“You must stay awake,” he orders, fumbling for a magic potion in his belt. “The weapon was likely poisoned, I must-” He breaks off, ripping her dress open and pouring the potion over the wound directly.  _ This will be fatal if I cannot get her help soon. _

 

“What?” she asks, her breathing coming harder. “ _ Tes- _ ” She gasps, pale brows drawing together as her body arches painfully. “It burns.”

 

The potion is too weak, or too old, or any number of things, but the jagged rip in her side doesn’t begin to close. Cursing under his breath, he rips his sleeve off, tying it as tight as he can manage, keeping the knot on the wound itself despite her complaints of pain.

 

“We have no come all this way together to lose you now,” he says sternly, picking her up as if she were made of glass.

 

“Please,” she scoffs, trying not to wince. “Like this is the worst I have done.”

  
Zevran doesn’t answer, his worry and fear for her overwhelming his charm.  _ No, amora, _ he thinks,  _ the worst thing you’ve done is getting involved with me. _


End file.
